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“I am ze French Count!” 





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Missoutians 

Honot 

Waltez W. Arnold 

3 Drawings b'^ Hudson 



^toadway Publishing Company 
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LianAHYof CONGRESS 
Two Copies Receivoci 

DEC 19 1904 

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Copyrighted, 1904, 

BY 

WALTER W. ARNOLD. 


All Rights Reserved. 




CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Love’s Disappointment— An American 

PAGE 

Gentleman., i 

CHAPTER H. 

A Race Against Time 


CHAPTER HI. 

Villainy Frustrated — A Rich Bequest . 


CHAPTER IV. 

Love’s Assurance — Plans Discussed ., 


CHAPTER V. 

Last Chance — Roughing It 



CHAPTER VI. 

Rough-House—Tenderfeet — A Bad Man Humiliated. 34 


CHAPTER VII. 

Chink’s Mishap — A Rich Gold Mine 44 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Deep Anxiety — A Night Ride 52 


CHAPTER IX. 

Highwaymen — The French Count’s Cowardice .... 62 
CHAPTER X. 

Held for Ransom — Donald to the Rescue — Adieu, 

Mademoiselle 72 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

'I am ze French Count ’ ”... .Frontispiece ^ 

“He placed one hand before his eyes to ward / 
off the great temptation” 14 


Two plump arms encircled a willing neck”. 77 



A MISSOURIAN'S HONOR. 


CHAPTER I. 

love’s disappointment — AN AMERICAN GEN- 
TLEMAN. 

“Steel and Bland, Brokers.” 

These words in gilt, on a glazed panel, 
marked the entrance to the business apart- 
ments of the strongest general brokerage firm 
in St. Louis. 

Their rating was at the million mark, but 
it was well known that only a small propor- 
tion of its value was owned by the junior 
partner, who had been promoted to member- 
ship in the firm from the position of manager. 

Mr. Steel was a man of fifty, of Scotch- 
English descent ; fastidious in dress, very 


2 A Missourian’s Honor. 

proud of his ancestral lineage, and dignified 
to a marked degree. 

He had never married, but maintained a 
handsome residence in the aristocratic part of 
the city. This palatial habitation being pre- 
sided over by a housekeeper and his niece, a 
beautiful bud of womanhood. 

On the date our story opens, Mr. Steel 
stepped from the elevator, passed through the 
several rooms of busy clerks, entered his pri- 
vate room and seated himself at his desk. 

No attention was given to the neatly ar- 
ranged pile of open letters which had been 
placed for his perusal, but the drawn, heavy 
brows and frown marks on his ordinarily im- 
mobile countenance, portended that some ques- 
tion of unusual importance was engrossing his 
thoughts. Also that its tenor was not of a 
pleasing nature. After a few moments of re- 
flection, his hand brought forth from an in- 
ner pocket a small, folded piece of paper. 

The storm cloud gathered on his brow as 
he regarded the tiny page, and he touched an 
electric button with unusual emphasis. 

“Inform Mr. Courtney that I desire to see 
him,” he remarked to the little office boy who 


Love’s Disappointment. 3 

responded to the call. A moment later the 
summons was answered by a young man, who 
stepped quickly into the great magnate's pres- 
ence. 

His movements and bearing betokened that 
of one entirely familiar with the establishment, 
in fact, though but young in years, he occu- 
pied the responsible position of chief clerk. 

He was a manly, handsome fellow. His 
face showed resolution and firmness of char- 
acter, but wore a natural, winsome cheerful- 
ness of expression which won him many 
friends. 

Donald Courtney had entered this great es- 
tablishment when but a lad, and by close, faith- 
ful service had advanced to his present respon- 
sible position. His strong business sagacity 
had brought him into the councils of the firm, 
and he stepped to the side of his superior with 
eager expectancy. 

‘‘Mr. Courtney, will you have the kindness 
to close the oifice door?" remarked Mr. Steel, 
in cold, slow tones. 

Mr. Courtney ? This was the first time that 
Donald could remember of having been ad- 
dressed by his surname by either member of 


4 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


the firm. The transition was so sudden and 
unexpected, that his head swam and his eyes 
burned with the hot flashings of his brain as 
the request was complied with, and his former 
position regained. 

‘‘What is it, Mr. Steel?” he inquired, in 
tones of evident concern. 

“Did you pen that note?” asked the other, 
with grave austerity, tendering the dainty mis- 
sive to the young man. 

“Dear Lettice: — Will you accompany me 
in a drive to the World’s Fair buildings this 
evening? Donald.” 

A glance was sufficient to enlighten the 
young man as to its authorship. 

He knew that in the past Mr. Steel had 
made no question of his association as an es- 
cort for his niece on every and all occasions. 
In fact, Donald was accorded the freedom of 
the household. The young members of their 
set had long classed them as sweethearts, and 
he had looked on the silver crested clouds of 
the future with undoubted expectation of the 
the time when he could ask Mr. Steel for this 
treasure. 


5 


Love’s Disappointment. 

Indeed, the friendship between his employer 
and himself had been so warm and lasting 
that the possibility of a rejection of his suit had 
not been considered. His tormented brain 
could form no logical hypothesis for the present 
unexpected and inconsistent condition of af- 
fairs, and the embarrassment of his position 
pressed keenly upon him. 

did not think ’’ he began, with evi- 

dent confusion. 

''Reply to my question,” interrupted Mr. 
Steel, sternly. 

"Yes, sir,” replied Donald, firmly. 

"This is an absurd presumption ” 

"Presumption, sir,” quickly interjected 
Donald, with asperity. 

"Presumption,” almost thundered Mr. Steel. 
"Do you understand me — execrable presump- 
tion, sir. What excuse have you to offer for 
this audacity?” he added, rising. 

Young Courtney bit his lips in an effort to 
subdue the tempest of anger that almost over- 
mastered his control. After a moment’s pause, 
his flashing eyes assumed a more tempered ex- 
pression, and he replied in firm tones; 

"I love her, sir.” 


6 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


‘‘Love her — preposterous!” exclaimed Mr. 
Steel, and he began to pace nervously up and 
down the office. 

His hasty movement was evidently for the 
purpose of regaining composure, and to give 
the question deeper thought. 

“Does my niece share this sentiment?” he 
inquired, pausing and regarding the other with 
a look which showed all the acrimony of his 
mind. 

“Our mutual affection has been the growth 
of years, sir.” 

“Then it must stop right now,” returned 
Mr. Steel, emphatically. 

“Is there any question as to my integrity?” 
Donald protested. “Am I not worthy to aspire 
to the hand of your niece?” 

“The standard of your reputation has no 
possible bearing on the matter,” rejoined Mr. 
Steel, firmly. “My niece is of most aristocratic 
descent, is the heiress of a quarter of a million 
in her own right, and I have promised her 
hand, when she is of age, to the son of a 
French count.” 

Donald winced as if struck a hard blow, but 
quickly recovered his composure. 


Love’s Disappointment. 7 

‘‘I have but a few thousand/’ he said, in 
slow, firm notes, and his splendid form 
straightened to its full dignity, “but I would 
have you understand, sir, that my father is an 
American gentleman. A French snob ” 

“Enough of these insults/’ interrupted Mr. 
Steel, his voice quivering with passion. “You 
quit our employ, and your attention to my 
niece at once.” 

Donald’s eyes flashed as he looked steadily 
into the orbs of his employer, and the heaving 
of his breast showed the passion he was striv- 
ing to subdue. 

“Will you allow me a few minutes’ conver- 
sation with Lettice — with your niece?” he 
asked, pathetically. 

“Not a second,” returned the other, firmly. 

“Hold!” he commanded, as the young man 
turned to depart. “If you will promise not to 
write to her, you can have thirty minutes’ con- 
versation.” 

Young Courtney’s mind was in a confused 
jumble as he endeavored to reason out the 
most plausible course of action. He realized 
the full scope of this merciless proposition, 
and was too honorable to break it if accepted. 


8 


A' Missourian’s Honor, 


^^Gather your ideas quickly, young man,’’ re- 
marked Mr. Steel, looking at his watch, ‘‘two 
minutes’ grace have gone.” 

“But, Mr. Steel ” 

“Four minutes gone,” dryly interrupted the 
other. 

“I agree, despot,” Donald cried hoarsely, 
and hurriedly left the room. 

“Twenty-six minutes, and ten blocks to go,” 
were the terrifying thoughts which tortured 
young Courtney’s mind, as he ran to the coat 
room. Snatching his hat from a hook, he raced 
across the room and took the broad stairway 
five steps at a jump. 

“Rock Island common off, Donald?” 

“Atchison preferred advance ten points?” 
called some acquaintance who had passed him 
on the elevator. 

What cared he for the advance or decline 
of stocks! It was a mere bagatelle compared 
with his race against time. 

A glance at his watch as he reached the side- 
walk showed that eight minutes of the precious 
time had expired. 

Fortunately his car was just passing, and 
with a little run and spring he was on the rear 


9 


Love’s Disappointment. 

platform. He felt the agitation too greatly 
to take a seat, but was comforted with the 
thought that the electric car would soon reach 
his destination. He was carefully considering 
what was best to say, and how to say it, in the 
brief length of time which would be allowed 
him with his sweetheart, and the harrowing 
possibility that she might not be at home kept 
obtruding itself. 

But all these thoughts were banished by 
the abrupt stopping of the car, which almost 
threw him from the railing. 

Hastening to the front of the car Donald 
found a heavily loaded coal wagon broken 
down on the track. 


10 


'A Missourian’s Honor. 


CHAPTER II. 

A RACE AGAINST TIME. 

Hailing a passing hack he ran to its side, 
gave hurried direction for quick transit, to- 
gether with an unusual fee, and sprang into 
the vehicle. 

They were barely under good headway 
when a stop was made, and the young man 
dropped to the pavement and went forward to 
find the jehu with the fore leg of one of the 
animals between his knees. 

“Beggin" yer honor's pardon, sir, but de nigh 
horse has half trowed a shoe, de blackguard,” 
he exclaimed, twisting and tugging to wrench 
the few remaining obdurate nails from the 
hoof. ‘‘Be faith, 'n' we'll be off like a straik of 
lightnin' in a minute.” 

Donald groaned as a glance at his watch in- 


A Race Against Time. iii 

dicated that but fifteen minutes of valuable 
time remained. 

‘‘Hey, there !” exclaimed a voice behind him, 
and young Courtney turned to find the nose of 
a horse almost against his face. 

The animal was drawing a light, grocery 
delivery wagon, and a boy perched on its high 
seat had shouted the warning. 

Donald stepped aside, and as the wagon 
passed a thought entered his mind which was 
put into instant execution. With a quick step 
and spring he vaulted safely into the rear of 
the moving wagon. Noting his strange action 
the driver called : 

“Hey, mister, yer wanter fall outen there, 
V do it quick!” 

Donald gave the order no heed, but con- 
tinued to carefully pick his way over the boxes 
of eggs and baskets of groceries to the driver’s 
seat. 

“What do ye want?” inquired the latter. 

“I want you to take me to — Lafayette Ave- 
nue, quick as possible.” 

“Well, I like yer nerve,” bridled the deliv- 
ery boy. “ ’N’ I’ll do nuthin’ o’ ther kind.” 

Courtney placed his hand on the driver’s^ 


12 Missourian’s Honor. 

shoulder, and with a look which plainly showed 
the earnestness of his determination, remarked 
with startling severity : 

“Ten dollars if you do so voluntarily. I 
shall throw you into the street and take charge 
of the horse if you refuse.’" 

“The tenner’s mine, old chum. Get a move 
on, old Never Curried, here’s heatin’ Lou 
Dillon’s 1 158 1-2,” he shouted, bringing the 
lines down on the animal’s back with vigor. 

Donald glanced at his watch, as the wagon 
swayed from side to side, in the mad race. 
Ten minutes of the allotted time remained. 
At this, and with no farther mishap his des- 
tination should be reached in little less than 
five minutes. 

Around corners and over street car tracks 
they swung and rattled, the grocery boy lay- 
ing on the whip as though it were an ambu- 
lance on a quick call, he was driving. Then 
with a sharp turn he brought the animal 
onto its haunches in front of Mr. Steel’s resi- 
dence. 

Donald threw him a bill, and springing from 
the wagon ran up the walk and ascended the 
marble steps. 


13 


A Race Against Time. 

‘Where is Lettice ?” he cried, so vehemently 
to the maid whom he met in the hall, that she 
started back in alarm, but indicated the parlor. 

Mr. Steel’s niece was seated at the piano, but 
rose at the sound of his hasty arrival. 

She was truly a handsome girl, with large, 
expressive blue eyes, a broad, intelligent brow, 
and an abundance of wavy chestnut hair. 

“Donald!” she exclaimed, tremulously, as 
he entered the parlor. “What is it — ^my 
uncle ” 

“Yes, your uncle,” he interrupted, bitterly. 
“But we have only one minute’s time, sweet- 
heart ” 

“But my poor uncle,” she broke in. “Oh, 
Donald, tell me the worst.” 

“Perdition seize your uncle! Oh, Lettice, 
listen to me,” he added, beseechingly, as she 
started back at the vehemence of his language. 

But at this instant, the silvery tones of the 
little French clock on the mantel chimed out 
the last second of his time limit. 

His face paled as the full significance of his 
position flashed upon him. 

Lettice stood before him in an attitude of 
expectancy, her large blue eyes open to their 


14 A’ Missourian’s Honor. 

fullest extent with wonder, and her beautifully 
curved lips quivering. 

An instant he paused, regarding this beau- 
tiful choice of his affection, with Cupid dis- 
charging every arrow from his quiver into his 
heart. Then, with a cry as of a soul tortured, 
he placed one hand before his eyes to ward off 
the great temptation, turned and almost stag- 
gered from the room. 

One distressed cry of ‘‘Donald, oh, Don- 
ald!’' was wafted to his ears as he descended 
the steps. 



“He placed one hand before his eyes to ward off the 
great temptation.” 




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y illainy F rustrated. 


^5 


CHAPTER III. 

VILLAINY FRUSTRATED — A RICH BEQUEST. 

Donald Courtney was a young man of 
well-balanced mentality, and with sterling, 
honest uprightness of character. He would 
not have entertained a thought of unmanli- 
ness. He had all possible respect for the posi- 
tion of his employer, but his American spirit 
caused him to resent any interference which 
he deemed personal. 

He was certainly right in the feeling that 
he had been treated in a most discourteous 
manner, that Mr. Steel had used his power of 
might to brush him aside with less compunc- 
tion than he would feel in kicking a pauper 
from his pathway, and his soul was filled with 
a turmoil of indignation as he walked un- 
steadily away from the mansion. 

How many of us, acting on the maxim of 


i6 A Missourian’s Honor. 

^'all is fair in love or war” would have followed 
the almost irresistible promptings of love’s 
passion and taken this beautiful choice of his 
affection under the mantle of protection and 
bid defiance to the wishes or commands of 
kindred or king! 

But while this greatest of temptations 
surged at his heart, his strong sense of con- 
scientious integrity and inviolable regard for 
his word of honor caused him to put the pleas- 
ant morsel from his lips. 

A short walk brought him to Lafayette 
Park. Entering the beautiful grounds, he 
took a shady seat near the artificial lake to 
ponder over his late experience. 

The heat of passion had cooled, and the 
stern facts of the situation were before him. 
He felt that it was by no action of his that 
within an hour he had lost a good position and 
been denied the companionship of one whom 
he loved with all the ardor of his strong soul. 

Not for an instant had the thought of giv- 
ing her up at the command of an uncle entered 
his mind. He knew that Lettice possessed 
much spirit, and smiled at thoughts of the re- 
bellion Mr. Steel would encounter when he 


Villainy Frustrated. 17 

endeavored to bend her will to his plans. He 
realized that in one year she would reach her 
majority, and he entertained no apprehension 
as to being disqualified in the race for her pref- 
erence. 

He had several thousand dollars in bank, 
but was ambitious to gain a sum sufficient to 
place them on a level with the society in which 
they moved. The fact that but one year's 
time remained for the acquirement, prodigious 
undertaking, did not appall or dishearten him. 
It must be done; how it could be accomplished 
he left for farther consideration. 

Arising from the seat with the satisfied air 
of one whose mind had reached a definite con- 
clusion he left the park and took an outbound 
car. 

Leaving the latter at the outskirts of the 
city, Donald entered a neat cottage which was 
the residence of his sister, to whom he had 
always gone with questions of importance. 

The balance of the day and evening was 
passed in council as to his future, and he 
started on a return to the city with a renewed 
determination of spirit to win in the life game 
of hearts. He alighted from the car at Frank- 


1 8 'A Missourian’s Honor. 

lin Avenue, and the night being mild and 
pleasant, strolled out onto the great Eads 
bridge to commune alone over the day’s event- 
ful happenings. 

He had taken a seat in the darkened portion 
of an alcove, and was regarding the ever-in- 
teresting array of lights which glimmer along 
the levee front with procession-like glow, 
when the strange actions of several men who 
were approaching on the bridge sidewalk at- 
tracted his attention. 

Two of them were supporting a third per- 
son, who seemed either under the influence of 
liquor or in a stupor. They paused a short 
distance from Donald, and a scuffle ensued. 

Young Courtney hesitated about meddling 
in possibly a drunken wrangle until a choked 
appeal for help was heard. Without any hesi- 
tancy he left his place of concealment and 
sprang toward the rufflans. 

One of the number was being borne on the 
shoulders of his companions, their evident in- 
tentions being to cast him over the guard rail 
of the bridge into the black, boiling depths of 
the river. 

Their first knowledge of any interference 


Villainy Frustrated. 19 

with their murderous intentions was a blow 
from Donald’s fist, which felled one of the ruf- 
fians, and the victim dropped heavily to the 
walk. 

The fallen thug quickly regained his feet, 
and was preparing for a joint attack with his 
companion, when the sound of hastily ap- 
proaching footsteps caused them to beat a hur- 
ried retreat toward the east end of the bridge. 

A bridge patrolman arrived at this instant 
and Donald explained the situation so far as 
he had knowledge of the fact, and they turned 
their attention to the victim of the murderous 
assault. 

"‘That was certainly a close call,” remarked 
the young man as he lifted the prostrate man’s 
head on his knee. 

“’N’ I hev’ ye ter thank fer outwittin’ the 
thavin’ Ombrays, stranger,” returned the in- 
jured man, in low, deep tones. 

“Did they rob you?” inquired the officer, 
who waited by his side. 

“Got ’bout ’er thousand, I guess. But 
hold on, Mr. Officer,” he added as the 
latter arose and started toward the eastern end 
of the bridge. “Guess ye better get a doctor, 


20 A Missourian’s Honor. 

an’ get his pronto; fer they give me erbout six 
inches uv steel atween the shoulders that’ll 
send me over the Great Divide, I reckon.” 

The officer hurried away to turn in a call 
for the ambulance. 

Donald carefully examined the injured man 
and found, as he judged, a deep knife cut be- 
tween the shoulder blades. He gave the wound 
all the attention at his command. 

From inquiries he learned the stranger’s 
name to be Milt Connor, that he had been a 
successful miner in the West, and was visit- 
ing St. Louis to ‘'have a time.” 

With a chance acquaintance he had indulged 
in liquor pretty freely. His companion proved 
to be one of the thugs whose pleasing address 
enabled them to ensnare their trusting victim 
to destruction. 

Young Courtney was becoming deeply inter- 
ested in his companion’s recital of his Western 
life when the ambulance arrived, and Connor 
was lifted into the vehicle. 

Donald had bade him good-bye with a word 
of cheer, and would have held back, but Con- 
nor clung to his hand and firmly requested 
that he accompany them, 


Villainy Frustrated. 21 

The city dispensary was soon reached, and 
the wound given careful attention. 

Young Courtney remained in the reception 
room until one of the surgeons made his ap- 
pearance. To his anxious inquiry the latter 
stated that the knife thrust would prove fatal, 
and that Connor had but a short time to live. 
Farther, that he had requested Donald’s pres- 
ence at once. 

As Donald came to the injured man’s side 
the latter asked that they be left alone. 

A weak smile lit up the rugged-toned fea- 
tures as he drew up a chair beside the sufferer. 

“Wall, pardner,” he said, with much effort, 
“Milt Connor has got his last grub stake. 
Ye hev’ done me a favor, an’ I’ll make yer 
fortin. I hev’ been working a secret mine alone 
in the Thunder Mountains ” 

The miner had grown weaker, which showed 
plainly that internal hemorrhage was fast sap- 
ping his life. His words were spoken with 
great difficulty, and Donald bent closer to catch 
the whisper. 

“Right behind the Silver Cascade is pan 
dirt that’ll make yer rich — rich ” 

Donald placed his ear close to the lips the 


22 A Missourian’s Honor. 

better to catch farther words of the strange 
story, but only an unintelligible mutter was 
heard, followed by a silence which plainly evi- 
denced the end of another life. 

Donald passed from the room, and leaving 
his card, with instructions for the interment 
of his late strange acquaintance, at his expense, 
left the dispensary. 


Love’s Assurance. 


23 


CHAPTER IV. 

love's assurance — PLANS DISCUSSED. 

Donald Courtney had a roommate named 
Bob Martin. They were joint tenants of a 
cosy suite of rooms in a fashionable bachelor 
apartment on Vine Street. 

Although the hour was late when Donald 
let himself into their quarters with a latchkey 
he found his chum waiting his return. 

Bob Martin was a big-bodied, whole-souled, 
big-hearted fellow; “Lazy Bob" his friends 
called him. He had inherited a large fortune, 
which enabled him to live his careless, inactive 
life. His manliness and other sterling charac- 
teristics were so marked that everyone liked 
and respected him. 

“Well, old chum," drawled he, shifting his 
position on the rich davenport, as he removed 
a French briar pipe from his lips, “haven't 
fallen into late hourS; have you ?" 


24 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


have had a day and night of exciting ex- 
perience, Bob, and am tired out,” replied Court- 
ney, dropping into an easy-chair with a sigh 
of relief. 

“And indeed you look it, old man. What is 
the trouble?” 

“I have been discharged from the employ of 
Steel and Bland.” 

“Incredible!” ejaculated the other, now all 
attention. 

Donald gave a full, detailed account of the 
unfortunate conference between Mr. Steel 
and himself, and the events up to the parting 
with his sweetheart. 

“You were going some, old man,” laughed 
Bob, referring to the latter’s exciting ride. 
“And you did just right.” 

“Rather, I was trying to go, but failed,” re- 
turned Courtney, lugubriously. 

“Oh, by the way,” remarked Martin, “a dis- 
trict messenger boy left a missive here for you 
early in the evening; it is there on the center 
table.” 

Donald picked up the envelope and hastily 
broke the seal, and hurriedly read over the 
closely written page. The sparkle in his black 


Love’s Assurance. 25 

eyes indicated that its contents gave him pleas- 
ure. He was deeply buried in thought as he 
sat closely regarding the open page in his 
hand. 

“It must look good to you, Don,’’ remarked 
his companion, after some little time. “Pass 
around the gladness.” 

Courtney arose to his feet, and handing the 
letter to his friend, leaned against the mantel 
while the latter perused the page. 

“ ‘Dear Donald,’ — Whew !” he commented, 
as the contents of the letter were read aloud, 
“your steady has it bad, old comrade. — ‘I have 
learned of your sacrifice in order to see me 
and my love for your manly action is increased 
an hundred fold, if the addition were possible. 
My uncle has informed me of his intentions 
with regard to the count, but will learn that it 
will not count with me.’ — Good pun,” snorted 
Bob. “ ‘No combination of circumstances can 
change my regard for you. In one year’s 
time I shall be of age, and then I am yours to 
command. We go to Europe for a tour of the 
Old World, and to meet the countship, I pre- 
sume, but have no fear.’ Say, Don,” he re- 
marked, returning the letter, “that Lettice 


26 A Missourian’s Honor. 

Steel is a brick. What are you going to do 
about it?’^ 

‘'I shall make her my wife/’ replied Court- 
ney, firmly. 

‘‘Bravo! If I had half your spirit there 
might have been an addition to the Benedict 
ranks long ago. But, ah me!” he sighed, 
dropping back into an easy position. “Just 
think of dancing close attendance to a 
whimsical bunch of mull and laces for 
a season and ‘Mr. Martin will be de- 
lighted, I know, to row us' up the Mississippi 
River a mile,’ on a hot night. Or, ‘Bob will 
carry the lunch baskets/ for a mile, with the 
thermometer at loo, play Copenhagen or 
swing a one hundred and sixty pound bunch 
of sweet femininity for an hour in the broiling 
hot sun. Oh, Don! the very thought is ex- 
haustive. No matrimony for yours truly.” 

Courtney smiled at his friend’s lugubrious 
sayings, well knowing that they lacked entire 
sincerity. 

He then recited the stirring events which 
had occurred during his acquaintance with 
Milt Connor. 

“Could not this Silver Cascade gold mine 


Love’s Assurance. 


27 

story be the chimerical result of his booze, or 
fever from the injury?” questioned Bob. 

“The circumstances surrounding his death 
and intelligent earnestness of the recital con- 
firm me in the probity of his story, and I shall 
give it investigation,” replied Courtney, posi- 
tively. 

“You will go to Idaho to verify your judg- 
ment ?” 

“My convictions warrant the action.” 

“Then you can count yours lazily in the 
pilgrimage, if acceptable.” 

“If you will accompany me. Bob,” ques- 
tioned the other eagerly, “half the find shall 
be yours.” 

“Not a penny of it, Don. I will attend just 
for the sport.” 

“I should desire no other companion. Bob. 
We will purchase our outfit and set out at 
once.” 

The two companions talked over their com- 
ing mining venture to a late hour. 


28 


Missourian’s Honor. 


CHAPTER V. 

LAST CHANCE ROUGHING IT. 

The sharp, pistol-like crack of a long whip 
at the heads of its leaders as the tired animals 
slowly dragged a heavy stage coach over a 
rough mountain road, followed later by a 
sharp application of the brakes as it swung 
from side to side down a narrow gulch and en- 
tered a broad valley. 

The Dixie stage had almost reached its ter- 
minus, to the relief of its passengers, and a 
certainly satisfactory anticipation of the jaded 
horses, as they voluntarily started forward in 
a canter, which soon brought the vehicle in 
front of a long wooden structure. The build- 
ing, known as the Last Chance, was the only 
hotel in Dixie. 

“All out. Bob,” remarked one of the only 
two occupants of the stage, as it came to a 
stop. “I suppose this is Dixie.” 


Last Chance. 


29 


sincerely hope so/’ returned his com- 
panion, dismally. ‘‘And I was just thinking 
that Artemus Ward must have got his in- 
spiration for his stage coach subject, after a 
sixty-mile ride between Stites and Dixie, 
Courtney.” 

“You would not enthusiastically recommend 
an Idaho stage as a conveyance of comfort?” 

“Indeed, not to a friend,” returned the other, 
as they reached the ground. 

“This way, gents,” interrupted the stage 
driver, as he gathered up some of their lug- 
gage. “Guess we’re not too late fer a feed.” 

They ascended a few steps to a porch which 
extended the entire front of the building. 

A number of rough looking, red-shirted men 
had come out of the building to meet them, 
the burliest of whom relieved the stage driver 
of his traps. 

“Howdy, Hank!” he said, in tones as deep 
and rough as the growl of a bulldog. “Be 
faith ’n’ yer a trifle late.” 

“Yep, Colonel. ’N’ dusty an’ dry down ter 
my in’ards.” 

“Step right in, me coveys. Supper’ll be corn- 
in’ in a blissid minute. An’ bedad, I hav some 


30 'A Missourian’s Honor. 

rale mountain dew that’ll make ye think yer 
ther prisident uv the United States in ten 
blissid minutes.” 

They were ushered into an apartment which 
evidently comprised both the office and bar- 
room of the Last Chance. 

A long, heavy, oak counter extended one 
side of the room. This evidently comprised the 
entire fixtures of the bar, at least all that was 
visible, if we might except the frame of a small 
mirror, whose glass, from the number of bul- 
let holes in the thin wood back, had evidently 
long since been shot out by promiscuous re- 
volver practice. 

As Colonel Hogan passed around the far- 
ther end of the bar he pushed aside some gunny 
bags which draped an opening into a long, dark 
corridor, and, in a voice which made the win- 
dows rattle, shouted: 

‘‘Wake up thar. Woo Chung, ye lazy 
haythen, ’n’ get those Ombrays some chuck. 
’N’ do et pronto, er be pipe uv St. Peter, I’ll 
hang ye wid yer own pigtail.” After having 
given the order for the evening meal in such 
vigorous tones, the broad-shouldered landlord 


Last Chance. 


31 

brought from beneath the counter a two-gal- 
lon jug and three tin cups. 

“Shure, ’n’ I know yer failin’, Hank,” he 
remarked in tones which he tried to make 
pleasant, as the driver eagerly seized one of 
the cups and tipped the jug until he filled it, 
and the full measure of fiery liquor was poured 
down his throat without the bat of an eye. 

‘‘It ain’t the amount ye drink. Hank,” con- 
tinued Hogan, watching the driver’s libations 
with every degree of pleasure, “but how much 
good it do yer.” 

“Will ye’s liquor, gents?” he inquired, push- 
ing the cups toward the young men. 

But both Donald and Martin declined the 
proffer and turned their attention to the sur- 
roundings. 

Following out the line they had decided on 
in making a test of Milt Connor’s statement 
with regard to the Silver Cascade gold mine, 
they had reached this far in their journey. 

The occupants of the room were a fair sam- 
ple of the crowd which are to be met in the 
bar-room of any Western mining town. 

Through clouds of rank tobacco smoke were 
men seated at the tables playing cards with 


32 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


half a dozen onlookers watching the games. 
They were a rough-looking lot indeed, some 
were prospectors, who spend the best years of 
their lives vainly looking for the “lucky strike” 
which will bring the financial world to their 
feet. 

You wonder how the prospector manages 
to subsist? I will digress sufficiently to an- 
swer the question. In all fairly rich mining lo- 
calities are firms, generally supply keepers, 
who furnish the prospectors tools and victuals 
free. This is cahed a “grub stake.” If the 
prospector is fortunate and locates a paying 
mine, fifty per cent, of the output goes to the 
person who furnished the grub stake. The 
two companions felt that some of this class 
composed the crowd before them, but probably 
the larger proportion were laborers in the large 
quartz crushing mill that was located at this 
point. 

Both Donald and his companion were 
equipped in every way to be independent of 
outside assistance. They were now near the 
North Fork of the Salmon river, right in the 
foothills of Thunder Mountain, in the gold 


Last Chance. 


33 

country. From Dixie their journey must be 
continued either on horseback or afoot. 

They were ready to accept any condition of 
affairs which might tend to the successful 
fruition of their plans, be it perilous or other- 
wise. 

Both were cool and deliberate, and while 
Bob Martin’s broad, muscular shoulders and 
cleverness in the manly art, had gained him the 
respect and the admiration of many of the 
pugilists of note, with whom he had met in 
friendly bouts at the gymnasium, Donald’s 
proficiency as a rifle and revolver shot placed 
him at the head of the list in the target room. 

“The levee front is tame in comparison with 
the tough element of this country, eh. Bob?” 
remarked Donald, as they took in the scene 
before them. 

“Yes, and like McDougal’s alley, the far- 
ther you go, the rougher and tougher it gets.” 


34 


A Missourian's Honor. 


CHAPTER VI. 

ROUGH-HOUSE TENDERFEET BAD MAN 

HUMILIATED. 

Their attention was now drawn to the out- 
side of the building, where two horsemen had 
just alighted and the clang, clang of heavy 
spurs could be heard, as one of them ascended 
the steps. 

Pausing in the doorway he gazed around at 
the occupants of the room. 

His heavily jawed, disfigured face and bull 
neck were set on a herculean body which had 
evidently at one time possessed great strength. 

Turning his bloodshot eyes savagely around 
over the occupants of the room, he bellowed : 

“Why, boys! Ye all know me. Pm Black 
Pine Pete of the old 1851 camp. An’ jest 
natchely pinin’ fer a scrimmage. Any ye 
Dixieites wanter ’commodate me, see?” Black 


Rough-House. 35 

Pine Pete’s prowess as a rough and tumble 
fighter was well known in that locality, and it 
was considered a pretty safe proposition to 
let him alone. 

Many of the occupants of the room, al- 
though visibly annoyed at the defi, schooled 
their feelings of resentment, while some of a 
timid nature, endeavored to *‘get next” to his 
good-will with salutations of ‘‘Howdy, Pete. 
That’s right.” 

“Wall, if yer too cowardly ter fight, I’ll 
liquor. 

“Hello, Colonel,” called the bully, striding 
up to the bar with a swagger, “trot out that 
jug uv mountain dew thet hev’ never rev- 
enue ” 

“Pete,” interrupted Hogan, glancing at the 
strangers with a worried look. 

Black Pine Pete turned toward Donald and 
Bob, and regarded them wickedly for a mo- 
ment. 

“Bald knob ’uv Thunder Mountain !” he 
howled, “this is more satisfaction than strik- 
in’ a vein uv pay dirt. Two nice young ten- 
der feet, ’n’ jest pinin’ fer a difikilty. Whoope 
and alaman left!” 


36 A Missourian’s Honor. 

'Tass it up, Pete,’' growled Hogan. '‘Be 
faith, ’n’ they do bees guests uv me hotel. 
The gents’ll no doubt set ’em up.” 

"Say, Mr. Man,” the bully leered, stepping 
in front of Bob, "will yer pay ther liquor fer 
the house er take a lickin’?” 

"If you are addressing me,” remarked 
young Martin, his lips curled in a half sneer, 
as he looked into his questioner’s eyes with 
cool determination, "I can assure you that 
none of my money will be spent on you or 
your friends, you big, bloated, blustering 
bully!” 

"Buckin’ bronchos!” howled Pete, glancing 
around the room. "Did I hear aright, fellers ? 
Me, the best man in Thunder Mountain. Why, 
I’ll jest hammer him ter pieces!” The bully 
danced around the room in fury, and its other 
occupants fully expected there would be some- 
thing doing at once. 

"Skin yer fancy coat, pilgrim, fer I’m corn- 
in’,” snarled Black Pine Pete, squaring him- 
self. 

"Come on, wind jammer,” sneered Martin, 
without making a move toward defence, "and 
I will punch some of the conceit out of you.” 


Rough-House. 37 

‘Wha — oop!’^ roared Pete, ^^here's er min- 
ute’s exercise.” 

Crouching, with his head and thick neck 
drawn down into his shoulders a la Jef- 
fries, he sprang forward, and his hamlike fist 
sent with a straight swing for Martin’s face, 
but the latter’s left neatly turned the blow 
aside and the right shot forward, landing on 
the ruffian’s mouth and nose with a smack 
that could have been heard half a block. 

As Black Pine Pete staggered back. Bob 
sprang forward, and planted both a heavy right 
and left swing on the point of jaw, and the 
bully dropped limply to the floor. In the 
parlance of the ring, he not only ‘‘took the 
count,” but “passed into queer land.” 

The encounter had brought Martin to the 
center of the room, where he stood closely re- 
garding his fallen foe. 

At the commencement of hostilities Donald 
had drawn his revolver partly from his belt, 
and cast his eyes furtively about to guard 
against treacherous interference. 

As Black Pine Pete went down, his com- 
panion appeared in the doorway. Drawing a 
long, murderous knife from his belt, he raised 


38 A Missourian’s Honor. 

it aloft, intending to spring forward and 
plunge it into young Martin’s back. 

He was making the spring when the sharp 
report of a revolver rang out, and several fin- 
gers followed the knife into the air. As the 
latter turned to descend to the floor, another 
shot followed, the bullet of which struck the 
knife’s guard, driving the weapon into the 
wooden wall, where it remained quivering. 
As the knife was shot from his grasp, the mur- 
derous villain gave a howl of pain and dashed 
from the room. 

In a short time Black Pine Pete regained 
consciousness, and began to look around be- 
wildered. ^'Buckin’ burros !” he exclaimed, 
rising to a sitting position, *^did er bolt uv 
lightnin’ strike me?” 

*‘You will think it sharper than a flash of 
lightning if you show your ugly face around 
here again,” remarked Bob. 

With this admonition he easily lifted the 
form of the burly ruffian above his head, 
walked to the door, and pitching him out on 
to the hard roadway, calmly turned to Hogan 
with the question: 

“Is our supper ready, landlord?” 


Rough-House. 39 

Colond Hogan’s gaze wandered from the 
doorway to the knife in the wall and then to 
the two young men with dumbfounded aston- 
ishment. 

^‘Well, be the Holy Virgin!” he exclaimed, 
‘Vho the divil be ye?” 

“We are travelers and very hungry,” evaded 
Bob. 

“ ’N’, be the holy pipe uv St. Patrick, Pll 
murther that haythen ef yer supper is not 
ready at this blissid minute,” Hogan exclaimed, 
hurrying from the room. A noise like that 
of a rough-house was heard from a distant 
part of the building, followed by a human cry 
of distress, and Hogan appeared with the an- 
nouncement that the meal was ready. After 
removal of the travel dust by a good wash 
in a cool spring, the young men entered the 
dining-room, and to their surprise, were seated 
to an excellent supper. 

Their being alone at this repast was ex- 
plained by the statement of Hogan, that the 
stage driver had joined with the town’s citi- 
zens in a jamboree celebration at the ignomin- 
ious downfall of Black Pine Pete. 

“Woo Chung,” called the Colonel, as he left 


40 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


the room, ‘^serve these gents, er Fll give 
yer ’nuther batin’.” As he disappeared in the 
hallway, a little Chinaman entered the room. 

A limp in his walk and pained expression 
on his face, showed the rough treatment he 
had lately passed through. 

*^Was the landlord abusing you?” inquired 
Donald in kind tones. 

The Chinaman looked at him, surprised. 
This was probably the first word of kindness 
that he had received in years. 

“Boss allee samee bad man,” he replied, 
tremulously, casting an apprehensive glance 
toward the door; “him kick and beatte Woo 
Chung allee timee.” 

“And I shall give him a dose of his own 
medicine if he does it again,” observed Bob, 
in a tone which left no doubt as to its earnest- 
ness. 

“Here, Woo,” said Donald, pitching a sil- 
ver dollar, which the little fellow caught dex- 
terously, “we will be your friends.” 

“Hi-yi,” cried the Chinaman, his face 
wreathed in smiles. 

“Chinaman allee samee glad, me like you 
allee light.” 


41 


Rough-House. 

“Woo/’ continued Donald, in a low tone, 
as he drew the latter close to his chair, “are 
you acquainted with this country?” 

“Woo Chung been all ovel Thundel Moun- 
tain.” 

“Do you know where the Silver Cascade 
is?” 

“Yep. ’Bout twenty mile up mountain. 
Are you prospectors ?” 

“We are.” 

“Let Woo Chung go with you, sehors?” 
inquired the Chinaman, eagerly. “Me washee 
and cook fol you.” 

“It would not be right for us to take you 
away from Hogan,” protested Donald, but his 
most weighty reason was a disinclination to 
disclose their actions to a third person. 

“Me lun ’way.” 

“What direction is the Silver Cascade, 
Woo?” he asked. 

“It north, up trail.” 

Having finished their meal, the travelers 
sent word to Hogan that they were very tired 
and ready to retire. 

Hogan answered in person. He was very 
anxious that they return to the bar-room to 


42 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


meet the marshal and other distinguished citi- 
zens of the town, who desired to become ac- 
quainted with the persons who had so quickly 
defeated and humiliated a terror of Black Pine 
Pete’s standing. 

“In fact,” insisted the Colonel, “the bhoys 
bees mellowing up fast, an’, bedad, sor, there’s 
nothin’ too good fer ye’s. An’ faith, a hot 
time there’ll be in Dixie this night in ye’s 
honor, sirs.” 

Donald realized that the friendship of these 
people was not to be despised, but neither Mar- 
tin or he had any thought or desire to en- 
gage in a night’s carouse. But deeming it 
best to be pacific, he laid his hand familiarly 
on Hogan’s shoulder, with the remark: 

“Please inform these good people they must 
excuse our presence to-night, as we are almost 
too tired to stand, and must have rest. 

“And, Colonel,” he added, “while we shall, 
no doubt, make Dixie our headquarters for 
some time, we are prospectors. We wish to 
commence our work at once, and will trouble 
you to purchase us two good horses and a pack 
mule. Now, if you will kindly direct us to 
our room, we will retire.” 


43 


Rough-House. 

“Right this way, gents. Be faith, 'n' there’s 
nothin’ too good fer ye,” returned the Colo- 
nel, fawningly, as he led the way into a fairly 
furnished room off the hallway. “An’ sure, 
the best bastes to be had in the town will be 
waitin’ yer honors in the morning.” Despite 
the noise of revolver shots and whoops which 
continued during the night’s celebration, the 
young men were soon asleep and did not 
awake until the call for a late breakfast. 


44 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


CHAPTER VIL 

chink’s mishap A RICH GOLD MINE. 

A NEW face served the meal, and knowing 
glances passed between Donald and his com- 
panion when it was explained that the China- 
man had decamped during the night. 

The town marshal and several citizens prof- 
fered congratulations at being rid of a town 
pest, and explained that the former bad man 
had sneaked away as soon as able to move. 

The animals, apparently of good quality, 
were ready, and purchased by Donald at a low 
figure. In fact, he had to decline them as a 
present. 

The burro was loaded with implements and 
such provisions as would be needed, and, after 
a hearty handshake with their new-made 
friends, the journey over the north trail, up 
into Thunder Mountain, was begun. 


Chink’s Mishap. 45 

They had proceeded probably half a dozen 
miles when a ‘‘ki-yi” was heard ahead, and the 
little Chinaman stepped into the trail. 

“Buenos dias, Sehors,” he cried in Spanish 
and pigeon English. “Ale allee samee sklip 
lout Poco tiempo.” 

Donald and Alartin laughed heartily at the 
grotesque actions of Woo Chung, as he 
danced and capered around them. 

“What are you going to do now?’’ queried 
Bob. 

“Allee samee go with Alellicans.” 

“But if we do not want you ?” 

Woo Chung’s sallow face took a deeper 
shade of yellow, in fact, he presented the most 
woebegone appearance they had ever beheld. 

“Oh, let the yellow heathen go. Bob. He 
will bring us luck.” 

“See, muncho bueno, Sehor Bob,” inter- 
rupted the Chink, eagerly. “Washee, cookee, 
and bling good luckee.” 

“All right, Woo,” smiled Courtney. “Up 
on that burro with you quick, and let’s be mov- 
ing.” 

Woo Chung climbed into a shelf of rock, 
almost before the permission. 


46 A Missourian’s Honor. 

A momentary pause and then without a 
thought of the possible consequence, he sprang 
through the air like a flying squirrel and lit 
astride of the burro’s back. 

His muleship had been standing with head 
and ears drooped down until they almost 
reached the trail, his eyes closed, either in 
meditation or sleep, but the instant that the 
Chinaman’s short legs came in contact with his 
back, there was something doing in the full- 
est sense of the word. 

Emitting a bray that rolled and rumbled 
through the canyons and defiles of Thunder 
Mountain, and caused energetic actions on the 
part of the prospectors to keep their mounts 
from bolting, the burro crouched and then? 
jumped humpbacked into the air with a buck 
which sent a tangled mass of cooking utensils, 
provisions and Chinaman into the trail ahead 
of him. 

Woo Chung slowly untangled himself and 
rose to his feet. 

The prospectors laughed heartily, as the 
strange mixture dropped in a tangled mess in 
the trail. 

‘‘What bloke loosee?” inquired Woo, one 


Chink’s Mishap. 47 

hand rubbing his head and the other his shin. 

“Get up, Woo,” laughed Don, reloading the 
animal, “we will introduce you to his burro- 
ship, and everything will go all right.” 

The entire party were soon riding slowly up 
the mountain trail. Woo Chung acting as 
guide. All day long the prospectors pushed 
their animals up the circuitous mountain trail, 
and as they ascended the four thousand feet 
elevation of Thunder Mountain, the rough 
scenery grew grand beyond all expression. 
They skirted a high peak on a pathway which 
was so narrow as to require them to proceed 
single file, and entered a narrow valley, at one 
side of which swirled and pitched a narrow 
stream, dancing and plunging in its mad jour- 
ney to join the north fork of Salmon river. 

“Allee samee stop here for night,” remarked 
Woo Chung, dropping from the burro’s back. 

“How much further is it to the Cascade?” 
inquired Donald. 

“Little way, but allee samee bad road and 
night come quick. No evening in mountain.” 

The companions had confidence in their 
guide’s experience and were not loath to take 
the rest which their surroundings offered. 


48 A Missourian’s Honor. 

While Donald picketed the animals and Woo 
Chung gathered wood for a fire, Bob joined 
the sections of a pole together, and fastening 
a fly on his hook proceeded down stream until 
a small pool was found, made a cast for a 
troll and in a short time had landed several 
fine mountain trout. 

They were provided with all necessary camp 
utensils and the little Mongolian soon had an 
appetizing spread before them. It was hardly 
finished when the sun disappeared behind a 
mountain peak, and the valley was instantly 
enveloped in a cloak of intense, impenetrable 
blackness. 

“As dark as the gloomy cavern underground 
through which the shades had to walk in their 
passage to Hades,” quoth Bob, as they rolled 
themselves in their blankets. 

Both young men were awakened by the call 
of Woo Chung in the morning, and found 
a good meal of breakfast bacon, eggs, trout 
and coffee awaiting them. The meal over, 
Woo Chung explained that their destination 
was but a short distance up the stream, but 
must be made on foot. The Mongolian led 
the way up the steep, rocky, narrow canyon, 


Chink’s Mishap. 49 

closely followed by his earnest companions. 
As they toiled onward and upward over the 
rough stair of nature, the sound of a cataract 
grew louder, and a turn around a high abut- 
ment of rock brought them to the foot of a 
veritable miniature Niagara. Their further 
progress was blocked by a solid sheet of water 
which poured like a bright curtain of silver 
from a fissure a hundred feet above. 

^‘Allee samee Silver Cascade, senor,^' ex- 
claimed Woo Chung, addressing young Court- 
ney, whom he recognized as the leader of the 
party. 

“Magnificent!’’ cried Donald. 

“It is well worth the trip,” returned Bob. 

“Woo,” inquired Donald, “has anyone ever 
ventured behind that cataract?” 

“No can say, senor, except allee samee get 
wet if try it.” 

“Here goes. Bob,” remarked young Court- 
ney, drawing close and to one side of the cata- 
ract, until the spray sprinkled him plentifully. 

“Better wait until I bring the rubber suits,” 
admonished his companion. But the next in- 
stant Donald had made a duck and sprung for- 
wafd. For a moment, the weight of the fall- 


50 A Missourian’s Honor. 

ing sheet of water threatened to hurl him back, 
and then his form disappeared behind its cur- 
tain. After about ten minutes’ time, young 
Martin sought a position near the falls and 
loudly hallowed. 

am all right, Bob,” returned a voice, 
hardly discernible above the roar of the cata- 
ract. 

‘'Do you want a light?” 

“Have a torch, and it appears just as Con- 
nor claimed. Wait for me.” Probably half 
an hour’s time had passed when a form was 
seen to quickly emerge from the sheet of wa- 
ter, and there was Donald, wet to the skin. 

Donald deemed it best not to comment on 
his discovery in the presence of the little 
Chink. On returning to the camp, he made 
a change of clothing, and in the meantime the 
Mongolian had gone in quest of a mess of 
mountain trout. 

“How did you find it?” inquired Bob, with 
much concern. 

“In this manner,” replied Courtney, hand- 
ing him several samples of quartz which 
showed a very rich per cent, of gold. 

“Why, Don, this is a veritable fountain of 


Chink’s Mishap. 51! 

the wealthy Jew of Jerusalem,” remarked the 
other, the unsteadiness of his voice showing 
his deep interest. ‘‘How much is there of it?” 

‘‘There seems to be a rich, heavy vein of the 
ore which has been fairly commenced by Milt 
Connor.” 

“What action are you going to take in the 
matter ?” 

“First, we will stake the claim. A rough 
plan of it, together with the ante-mortem state- 
ment of Milt Connor shall be filed legally at 
once, and then we will develop it with the best 
modern machinery.” 

“My idea exactly,” commented Bob, enthu- 
siastically. “The Chink need know nothing 
about the matter until the claim is legally filed, 
but I think best to keep him with us until that 
action is accomplished.” 

Several days were spent in mountain climb- 
ing and measurement, and a full inspection 
was made around and into the cave under the 
falls; plans were sketched for the use of ma- 
chinery in future work, and the three then 
started on their long return journey to make 
preparations to begin work. 


/ 


52 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


CHAPTER VIIL 

DEEP ANXIETY A NIGHT RIDE. 

Six months later, the picturesque, quiet val- 
ley below the Silver Cascade falls, was a scene 
of bustle and activity. The heavy fall of wa- 
ter furnished power for handling a trolley 
which conveyed the rich gold-bearing quartz 
to a point where it could be hauled to a smel- 
ter and stamp mill, also the heavy drills and 
an electric dynamo which lighted the valley 
and mine where men worked shifts day and 
night. The publicity of their rich acquirement 
had caused a wide flurry and excitement. 
Many tempting offers had been made the 
young men, but all propositions had been de- 
clined. The rich output of the ^‘Milt Connor,” 
as they had christened the mine, was making 
them millionaires at a rapid rate, but its im- 
portance did not flurry or excite them to any 


Deep Anxiety. 53 

greater extent than the handling of any other 
business transaction. 

A commodious structure built apart from 
the other buildings, and used for their office 
and residence, was in charge of the faithful 
Woo Chung. 

Night had fallen over the valley but arc 
lights entirely dispelled the darkness. Young 
Courtney had made his evening visit to all 
parts of the works, and was seated in their 
luxuriously furnished lounging-room reading. 
Bob had gone to Dixie on business and was 
expected at any moment. Presently his famil- 
iar step was heard and he entered the room. 

‘'Everything all right, Don ?” he questioned, 
tossing a bundle of letters, magazines and pa- 
pers on the center table. 

“Everything moving smoothly,” replied the 
other, carelessly sorting the pile of letters. 

“By the way, Don, did old man Steel have 
any mining properties in this country?” 

“Yes, sir, I remember handling the papers 
relating to his Idaho mines shortly before I 
left his employ.” The latter part of the speech 
was drawn out in a disinterested manner, as 
he hastily opened one of the letters, the 


54 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


contents of which seemed to blot out all sur- 
roundings. 

‘‘Do you remember the man’s name who had 
it in charge?” Young Martin was compelled 
to repeat the question with some show of aus- 
terity. 

“Oh, bother, Bob, what is it?” ejaculated 
the other, “what do I care for Steel or his 
mines? The returns were all calls for assess- 
ment.” 

“What was his mine manager’s name?” 

“Bradford Hillrung.” 

“You remember Black Pine Pete who en- 
tered into a one-sided argument with me at 
Dixie?” Don nodded smilingly as the events 
of the “argument” came to his mind. 

“I met the terror at Dixie to-day. He was 
exceedingly mellow and exceedingly friendly. 
In a burst of confidence and braggadocio he 
stated that he was a side partner of Brad Hill- 
rung, and that they had just pulled off a 
scheme which would line their pockets, when 
they would decamp for Arizona.” 

“Possibly Steel has threatened investigation 
and after making a heavy clamp at the mine 
they, will leave for other parts,” remarked 


Deep Anxiety. 55 

Donald, choosing another letter which he pro- 
ceeded to open. 

“I hope that it is no worse,’" reflected the 
other, leaning back in an easy-chair and lazily 
watching the rings of smoke from a fragrant 
Havana curl and circle to the ceiling. His 
sojourn in the bachelor’s dreamland was sud- 
denly cut short by a sharp ejaculation from 
his companion. 

“What is it, Donald?” he inquired, eagerly, 
brought to his feet by the other’s unusual show 
of excitement. 

“I have a letter here from Lettice,” he re- 
plied in unsteady tones, holding the sheet be- 
fore him with nervous hand. “They had just 
returned from abroad, and her uncle would 
soon start for Idaho, to investigate some trou- 
ble with his mines, and she had asked to ac- 
company him on the journey. As this let- 
ter is over two weeks old,” he continued, ve- 
hemently, “they may have reached Thunder 
Mountains, and my sweetheart be in the power 
of such rufflans as Black Pine Pete.” 

“I trust not,” replied Bob, trying hard to 
hide his apprehension from his friend, “but 


56 A Missourian’s Honor. 

I am ready to assist in any suggestion you 
have in mind.” 

“Then have two good horses saddled — make 
it three,” he corrected; “we will have Woo 
accompany us, for he knows the mountain 
trail like an Indian.” 

They were soon in the saddle and urging 
their mounts to their best efforts down the 
mountain trail. They were well armed and 
were fully determined to push their investiga- 
tions in any manner that the circumstances 
should demand. 

It was midnight when they reached Dixie. 
The noisy uproar in the “Last Chance,” dem- 
onstrated the fact that there was “something 
doing” at Colonel Hogan’s bar. The young 
men did not deem it prudent on this occasion 
to make their presence known at this time. 
Dropping to the ground. Bob handed the rein 
of his horse to his companion, and directing 
him to move farther along in the darkness, 
drew near the building to inspect its inmates. 

“We are in luck!” he exclaimed, on joining 
them in a few minutes. “Black Pine Pete 
is there ; he seems to be flush with money, and 
is spending it lavishly on the crowd ; has about 


Deep Anxiety. 57 

all the mountain dew he can carry, and I 
should infer from his remarks that he must 
quit them.’' 

“What course do you suggest?” inquired 
Donald, eagerly. 

“Wait his departure and follow him.” 

Young Courtney was very impatient to be 
making some more active effort, which would 
dispel the direful forebodings which were 
burning him up, as it were, but acceded to his 
friend’s advice. Bob endeavored to pacify 
him with the probability that Lettice had not 
accompanied her uncle on the trip, but the 
other took the effort at reconciliation with but 
poor grace. 

“Hi! Yi!” interrupted the Chink, “allee 
samee there come bad man.” 

The information was proven the next min- 
ute by a loudly bellowed, “Wha — oop! I’m 
ther toughest catermount what roams Thun- 
der Mountain,” and the terror was seen sway- 
ing back and forth in an effort to mount his 
bronco. “Go with me, nothin’,” he thundered, 
riding off in the direction of Red River Mead- 
ows, and emphasizing the warning with a 
number of revolver shots in the air. 


58 A Missourian’s Honor. 

After the watchers had satisfied themselves 
that the ruffian was not followed by his late 
companions, they took up the trail in his rear. 
The sound of his horse's steps was sufficient 
to guide them, while they felt that the noise 
of their animals’ movements would not be 
noticed by his liquor-dulled brain. This 
tracking was kept up for a number of miles 
when the full moon appeared and made their 
surroundings clearly discernible. At a word 
from young Martin, they drew rapidly, but 
quietly as possible, up onto their quest, one 
passing on either side. Black Pine Pete seemed 
wholly unconscious of their presence, and they 
discovered that he was leaning forward in a 
drunken sleep. 

“Pete, wake up,” demanded Bob, giving 
him a rough shake. 

“I’m a — hie — howlin’ terror,” growled 
Black Pine Pete, making an effort to brace 
up, but only half awake. 

Bob gave the tough a hard shake which al- 
most unseated the ruffian and brought him to 
his right senses. Pete instinctively felt that 
he was not in the presence of friends, and 


Deep Anxiety, 59 

giving vent to a long string of threats and 
bravado half drew his weapon. 

“Throw up your hands,” thundered Don- 
ald. 

The burly villain hesitated, but the cold muz- 
zle of a revolver pressed against his temple 
caused him to quickly comply with the com- 
mand. “Bind his hands behind him, Bob.” 
When this was done they dismounted, and 
in no gentle manner lowered their captive to 
the trail, the animals being turned over to 
the care of Woo Chung. 

“What ye mean by this funny play?” he 
growled, glaring from one to the other of his 
captors. 

Donald stepped squarely in front of 
the ruffian, the moonlight showing the white 
hue of his countenance distinctly. “Black 
Pine Pete,” he demanded, with abrupt and 
startling severity, “where are the old man and 
young lady you helped to abduct lately?” 

The villain started in spite of himself, but 
quickly gaining control of himself, he set his 
jaws determinedly. 

“Answer me at once.” 


6o A Missourian’s Honor. 

‘^Don’t know nothin’ ’bout ’em,” he replied, 
sullenly. 

‘‘Where is Brad Hillrung?” 

“I ain’t his keeper.” 

“Hold him at arm’s length. Bob,” said Don- 
ald. 

His companion having complied with the 
request, young Courtney stepped off ten paces, 
turned about, and bringing his revolver to 
a line with the villain’s head, remarked : 
“Now, Black Pine Pete, we have the best 
of proof that you had a hand in this abduc- 
tion. I shall take three shots at you to force 
you to open up on this matter. The first will 
trim off a lock of hair, the second a piece 
of ear, and the third will put out your light. 
You know my ability as a marksman” — the 
sharp report of a revolver finished the sen- 
tence. Black Pine Pete dodged to one side, 
and a lock from his tangled head covering fell 
to the trail beside him. “One,” called Don- 
ald, deliberately. Black Pine Pete was a bull- 
dog by nature, but this was too much for any 
nerves. 

“I cave, pardner,” he cried. 

“You will open up the whole plot?” 


Deep Anxiety. 


6i 


“Yep.” 

Bob and his companion were soon in posses- 
sion of a black plot and its fruition, which 
made Donald almost wild with torment and 
anger. 

“You will lead us to B^ad Hillrung's re- 
treat,” he commanded, vehemently, “and at the 
first show of treachery I shall fill your worth- 
less hide with lead.” 


62 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


CHAPTER IX. 

HIGHWAYMEN THE FRENCH COUNT’S COW- 

ARDICE. 

As they gallop down the mountain trail, we 
will go back several days, and chronicle the 
experience of several characters who hold a 
by no means inconspicuous position in the an- 
nals of this narrative. 

As the heavy overland express departed 
from Stites, three of the passengers followed 
the porter to the best hotel. Night had begun 
to envelop the rough surroundings in a mantle 
of darkness, and the travelers soon sought their 
respective rooms. It was learned that the stage 
was not due to leave for several days, and be- 
fore retiring, one of the gentlemen, who seemed 
in charge of the party, engaged the services 
of a conveyance to start for Dixie early the 
following morning. He had hardly started 


Highwaymen. 63 

on his return to the hotel, when one of the 
loungers around the stable, a villainous-look- 
ing scoundrel, hastily saddled a bronco and 
galloped away over the trail w^hich led to Thun- 
der Mountain. After an early breakfast on 
the following morning, the party descended to 
the hotel veranda and entered a landau to 
which was hitched four serviceable-looking an- 
imals. The vehicle had a much-used appear- 
ance, but a glance would show that it had been 
built for rough mountain travel. 

Two of the personages, Mr. Steel and his 
niece, Lettice, the reader is acquainted with. 
The third one of the party whose name was 
inscribed on the hotel register, ‘^Count Felix 
Alvius, Bordeaux, France,” was of medium 
height, but slender. His head was partly bald 
and his features small. A meager, lonesome 
mustache, either end of which was waxed to 
a needle-like point, adorned his thin lip. 

‘‘Allow me, ma chore,'' he lisped, dancing 
down the veranda steps and handing Lettice 
to the vehicle. That she was not greatly 
pleased with this work of gallantry was evi- 
dent by the poor grace of its acceptance, and 
if the Count was her uncle’s choice of betrothal 


64 A Missourian’s Honor. 

and had been her companion while abroad, 
the wind blew the straws against his success. 

The morning was mild and pleasant, and the 
top of the landau was thrown back. Lettice 
had taken a seat next to her uncle in the rear, 
while Count Felix sat facing them. 

“Is not this scenery grand!” exclaimed she, 
enthusiastically, regarding the towering moun- 
tain peaks in the distance. 

“Grand?” commented the Count, his mus- 
tache twitching with contempt, “what you call 
ordinaire I call — what compare to ze grand 
Alps of Switzerland. Is it not so. Mademoi- 
selle?” 

“Oh, cut it out!” angrily exclaimed Lettice, 
with American spirit and slang, and turned 
her back on him as much as their position 
would allow. 

“Lettice,” admonished Mr. Steel, rather 
sharply, “I certainly do not approve of such 
actions toward your affianced.” 

“Affianced, fudge ” 

“That will do, girl,” he interrupted, firmly. 
“I shall have the ceremony performed as soon 
as we can reach a clergyman.” 

For reasons of prudence and a desire to 


Highwaymen. 65 

gain time she had never offered open rebel- 
lion to the plans of her uncle, but had cleverly 
avoided any positive acceptance of his plans. 
The Count had treated her with ardent devo- 
tion, but she had artfully anticipated a dozen 
of his approaches to proposal. She instinct- 
ively felt that they were now drawing closer 
to the man who occupied her whole heart, but 
realized that it might be dangerous to their 
welfare to become too independent, and again 
resumed woman’s best weapon — hypocrisy. 
Apparent good feeling was resumed between 
her and the Count, and the journey was con- 
tinued with soft sayings of devotion on his 
part. 

Stops were made at Elk City and Red River 
Meadows. The driver intended that they 
should reach Dixie early in the afternoon, but 
a breakdown delayed them several hours and 
nightfall found them ten miles from their des- 
tination. He seemed very much put out at 
their enforced delay, and his apparent restless- 
ness caused Mr. Steel to inquire the cause. 

‘‘Are you not well acquainted with the road, 
and is it so dangerous ?” inquired the latter. 

. Tuck Barnes was the extra stage driver, and 


66 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


with the light from the side-lights of the lan- 
dau, could have safely driven the whole dis- 
tance in a gallop, but something of a weightier 
nature was causing him anxiety. ^‘Thar have 
been some hold-ups in this neighborhood 
lately,” he growled, “ ’n’ I don’t want none uv 
it.” 

Mr. Steel was dazed for an instant with 
apprehension and alarm, but he felt that an ap- 
pearance of indifference must be assumed in 
order to quiet any feelings of unrest or fright 
which the driver’s blunt, terrifying statement 
might cause Lettice. '‘Are you afraid of the 
road agent?” he inquired, indifferently. 

"No man has ever accused Tuck Barnes uv 
bein’ a coward yet, sir,” the driver drawled, 
as he pulled a Winchester from the boot of 
the landau and laid it alongside of him in the 
driver’s box. 

"Road agents?” inquired the Count. "Is 
zat zee American brigand?” 

"All fancy,” remarked Mr. Steel, indiffer- 
ently. "The driver is gifted with a vivid imag- 
ination.” 

"Fear not, ma chere Lettice,” cried the 
Count, pompously. "I am here. By Jove, I 


Highwaymen. 67 

ze neck of ze American brigand wring. I ask 
ze great pleasiaref' 

Although the young lady felt that their sit- 
uation must be insecure, she could hardly keep 
from shouting right out with laughter at her 
suitor’s grandiloquence, which she felt fully 
convinced was ardent bravado. Mr. Steel 
opened a small suit case and selecting two re- 
volvers, handed one to the Count. 

‘^Ah, now I am prepare for ze haute lutte” 
he exclaimed. “Let ze braivo ” 

“Hands up,” interrupted a deep-toned, 
rough voice at this instant, and a half dozen 
torches flashed into light on the sides of the 
narrow canyon through which they were pass- 
ing. Each torch-bearer held a revolver pointed 
at the occupants of the landau. The face of 
each outlaw was entirely covered by a black 
mask. Two of the band seized the heads of 
the leaders, as a tall, heavy man, evidently 
the chief highwayman, jumped lightly into 
the road beside the vehicle. Tuck Barnes 
seemed dazed for an instant by the flash of 
light, and then quickly rising to his feet, threw 
the Winchester to his shoulder and brought 
it to bear on on^ of the men who were holding 


68 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


the leaders. His action in making an effort 
to protect his passengers was wholly unex- 
pected by the highwaymen, but the result of 
his good intention was cut off by a volley of 
revolver shots, and he pitched forward onto 
the ground. At the first flash of light, the 
valiant Count pushed his hands up into the 
air, and then to more strongly emphasize his 
willingness to obey the command of ‘‘hands 
up,” he stood up in the landau, his limbs quak- 
ing so badly as to almost shake the vehicle. 

“Hands up thar, pilgrim, or Fll bore ye,” 
commanded the chief outlaw, covering Mr. 
Steel with a revolver. 

“What is the meaning of this outrage?” in- 
quired the latter, in tones of anger which he 
tried hard to control. 

“It means that ye will git out of thet hearse 
and ask no questions, if ye valley yer lives,” 
returned the outlaw, gruffly. 

Mr. Steel’s Scotch blood was up, and there 
is no doubt but he would have tried conclu- 
sions with the band in the start, but for the 
presence of his niece. Feeling that any show 
of resistance would probably be retaliated by 
insult or injury to her, he slowly descended 


Highwaymen. 69 

to the ground and assisted Lettice to alight. 
After relieving Mr. Steel of his arms, he and 
his niece were led to one side of the road and 
left in charge of one of the outlaws. 

“Well, Mr. Jack-in-the-box,” called the 
leader to the Count, who had not moved from 
his first position, but stood with his arms 
raised to their highest extent, and fingers 
spread wide apart, “are you locoed? Climb 
down out of there, or I’ll bore you,” he thun- 
dered, turning his revolver in that direction. 

Count Felix, with much trembling and de- 
lay complied, and staggered and almost col- 
lapsed with a vertigo of fear, as he stepped to 
the ground and joined his friends. Their 
presence seemed to give him momentary firm- 
ness. “I am ze French Count ” 

“Shut up!” thundered the bandit captain, 
jerking a long, wicked-looking knife from his 
belt and taking a step forward, “or I will send 
yer all over the Divide!” Felix sprang behind 
Lettice as if seeking to use her person for a 
shield. 

“Mon Dieu!” he whined, drawing as close 
to Miss Steel as possible. “Mr. Brigand, 
spare ze life of ze French Count, and ” 


70 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


“Coward!’’ cried Lettice, vehemently, and, 
turning quickly, gave the craven wretch a 
quick push which caused him to measure his 
full length in the road. 

“Well done, Lettice,” said Mr. Steel, 
dryly. 

“That’s ther proper spirit, young lady,” re- 
marked the outlaw, laughing heartily at the 
Count’s ignominious mishap. “Bind and 
blindfold them,” he added, “for we must be 
moving.” 

Willing hands soon complied with his orders 
and the captives could feel that they had left 
the trail and were being led up over the foot- 
hills. For hours they trudged over the rough 
path until Lettice almost felt like giving up 
with fatigue. Finally they came to a pause, 
a sharp whistle was given and answered near 
by, and they passed on and entered what the 
captives deemed was the opening to a cave. A 
short distance farther on the captives were 
caused to make a sharp turn, entered a nar- 
row niche, and were brought to a stop. 

“This is your quarters for the present,” re- 
marked the outlaw, as he removed the cords 
from their arms and the bandages from their 


Highwaymen. 71 

eyes. ^There is a second room for the lady. 
Good-night,” he said, and passed into the outer 
cave. A lamp on a rude stand disclosed sev- 
eral piles of blankets. Onto one of these 
Count Felix threw himself without a word. 
He felt the disgrace of his cowardly action, 
and realized that his standing with both Mr. 
Steel and his niece had fallen very much be- 
low par. 


72 


A Missourian’s Honor. 


CHAPTER X. 

HELD FOR RANSOM DONALD TO THE RESCUE 

ADIEU, MADEMOISELLE. 

Mr. Steel and Lattice passed into the other 
chamber of the cavern. It was well lighted 
by a hanging lamp, and showed by various 
indications that it had been hastily put into 
condition for her comfort. They looked care- 
fully over the room until satisfied that there 
was no inlet except through the other room. 

‘‘Keep up a good cheer, Lattice,” comforted 
her uncle, and kissing her good-night, went 
into the outer room. 

At an early hour the following morning one 
of the outlaws, who was evidently the cook 
for the band, brought in a tray laden with a 
good, steaming breakfast. He was well 
masked, and performed the service without a 
word. 


Held for Ransom. 


73 


After the meal Mr. Steel was informed that 
the chief desired his presence at once. Fol- 
lowing the guide, he was ushered into the 
outer cavern. On a raised platform sat the 
outlaw, surrounded by several of his band. 

“Step forward and be seated,^ ^ commanded 
that personage, in tones which were evidently 
intended to be imperative. “Without further 
delay,’' he added, and Mr. Steel noted that 
he had dropped the Western vernacular, “I 
shall state that you were kidnapped for the 
purpose of ransom. I am acquainted with 
the extent of your wealth and for the release 
of your party you must pay me $100,000. 
Will you do so?” 

Mr. Steel paused, and with great control 
swallowed the pentup passion of rage and in- 
dignation which was boiling within him. He 
felt that a more pacific course must be pur- 
sued. 

“Your request is irrational, sir,” he calmly 
observed, “and your demand absurd.” 

The eyes of his captor could be seen to snap 
viciously through the holes in the black mask. 
“Unless you comply,” the other rejoined, with 
abrupt and startling severity, “I shall bring 


74 A Missourian’s Honor. 

sorrow to you and yours. Ah he added, as 
though a new thought had entered his vile 
brain, ‘‘I shall make your beautiful niece my 
wife.’^ 

‘‘You fiend!” cried Mr. Steel, hoarsely, but 
the other interrupted him: 

“You can wire your St. Louis banker to 
express you the payment. That is my ulti- 
matum. You can have forty-eight hours to 
think and talk the matter over. At the end 
of that time I will demand your answer.” 
With a wave of his hand to indicate that the 
conference was at an end, two of the outlaws 
led Mr. Steel back to his room. 

As soon as he recovered his composure, Mr. 
Steel requested further audience to inform 
the outlaw that his terms were accepted, but 
was informed that he must wait the forty- 
eight hours, and he passed the interim pacing 
the confines of his cell-like room like a caged 
animal. Count Felix had ventured a remark 
about the situation, but had been cut off with 
curt, short ceremony, which showed the great 
decline of his standing with Mr. Steel. 

The time ordeal had passed and gone into 
another day’s trial of uncertainty, when Mr. 


^ Held for Ransom. 75 

Steel and his niece were requested to appear 
before the outlaw band. They were conducted 
to the outer cavern and seated before a rude 
table, behind which stood the outlaw chieftain. 
Pine-knot torches stuck in niches around the 
rocky chamber, lit up the surroundings with a 
sombre light, and disclosed the forms of a 
dozen black-masked freebooters occupying 
different positions around the room. They 
knew that the retreat was known only to the 
oath-bound members of the band, also that 
the approaches were well guarded, and for 
comfort had left their belts of arms on a shelf 
in another part of the building. 

‘'Are you ready to comply with my re- 
quest?’' inquired the bandit, gruffly. 

“I am ready to pay the ransom,” replied 
Mr. Steel, firmly. 

“Then sign this message,” returned the 
other, pushing a Western Union blank and 
pencil toward him. “You can retire now,” he 
said, as he slowly folded the signed telegram 
and placed it in his pocket. 

Mr. Steel and his niece were just entering 
the opening to their rooms when the outlaw 
called to them to pause. “So long as I must 


y6 A Missourian’s Honor. 

lose my prospective bride/’ he audaciously 
said, must kiss her good-night.” 

As the full purport of his scoundrelly re- 
mark was understood, Lettice uttered a sup- 
pressed scream and fled through the opening. 

^‘You will have to pass over my dead body 
before you offer her such indignity!” ex- 
claimed her uncle, barring the doorway. 

‘^Fool!” thundered the ruffian, snatching a 
long, wicked-looking knife from his belt, “I 
shall put you out of the race!” 

He had raised the knife aloft and was ad- 
vancing on his defenceless victim, when a 
sharp revolver shot rang .out and the bullet 
sent the murderous weapon spinning to the 
other side of the cave. 

The startled outlaws looked quickly around, 
to find Donald Courtney standing in the cav- 
ern. He held a smoking revolver which cov- 
ered their chief, and around him stood a dozen 
resolute-looking men of Dixie, each holding 
a Remington pointed in the direction of the 
outlaws. 

“Hands up, all! You are my prisoners!” 
admonished the County Sheriff, stepping forth 
from the ranks of his grim-looking posse. 




“Two plump arms encircled a willing neck.” 



Held for Ransom. 


77 


“Up with your hands, Brad Hillrung!” he 
thundered, advancing on the outlaw. “Your 
race of deviltry has run its course.’’ 

The baffled mine superintendent snarled an 
oath, but realizing that the first hostile move 
would be his death-signal, he reluctantly fol- 
lowed the example of his band, and they were 
soon securely tied. 

“Mr. Courtney,” exclaimed Mr. Steel, ad- 
vancing with outstretched hand toward that 
young man, “you saved my life. I humbly 
beg your pardon for my past actions.” 

Before Donald could make a reply a glad 
cry was heard, a form fairly flew over the 
rocky floor of the cavern, a joyous, “Oh! 
Donald!” was heard, two plump arms encir- 
cled a willing neck, and Lettice was sobbing 
happily on the breast of the man she loved. 

The sheriff found much stolen booty in the 
cavern, and conducted the captured outlaws 
to prison, where they later expiated their 
wrongdoings. A conveyance was found to 
carry our friends to Dixie. Lettice urged a 
hasty visit to the Silver Cascade. The Count 
remained in Dixie under plea of an immediate 
return to France. 


L.of G. 


78 A Missourian^s Honor. 

“Adieu, mademoiselle,’^ he exclaimed, bow- 
ing lowly over the gloved hand that Lettice 
presented, “I see that you have ze monsieur 
and happiness discover.” 

The party were soon in the saddle and gal- 
loping up the mountain trail toward the “Milt 
Connor,” on reaching which Donald and his 
chum gave up their residence to their friends. 

They were shown through all the works of 
the mine, and Donald and Lettice passed many 
happy hours alone, visiting the many points 
of wild and beautiful mountain scenery. 

A week’s time was required by Mr. Steel 
to reorganize the working and appoint a trust- 
worthy manager for his mines, after which he 
decided to return to St. Louis. Donald was 
easily prevailed upon to return with them. 

Leaving a trusted manager in charge of 
their mines, the party started on their journey 
to St. Louis. On reaching Stites they en- 
countered a party of St. Louis capitalists, who, 
attracted by the fabulous reports of the Thun- 
der Mountain district, had come to make per- 
sonal investigations, with a view to investing. 
The result was that the Milt Connor proper- 
ties were transferred to them for a considera- 


Held for Ransom. 


79 


tion of figures which went near the million 
mark. The party then resumed their journey 
to St. Louis, where soon after their arrival 
Donald and Lettice celebrated their nuptials 
at the palatial residence of the bride’s uncle. 
One week later they sailed for Europe, and 
soon after their return a year later a new sign 
adorned the front of the building formerly oc- 
cupied by the brokerage firm of Steel & Bland, 
which read as follows : ‘‘Steel, Bland & Court- 
ney, Brokers.” 


THE END. 



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